


A Day in the Life of Hawkeye

by GrandmasterJules



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Knives, POV First Person, POV Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 18:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18125072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrandmasterJules/pseuds/GrandmasterJules
Summary: Clint Barton can't seem to catch a break but that's the life of a superhero for you. (Based on Matt Fraction's Hawkeye)





	A Day in the Life of Hawkeye

The day starts off like any other day. I'm tired but when am I not? It's basically my natural state. The day that I'm not, New York'd better watch out because I might be dying… Again.

I go to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, just my usual morning routine. While it's brewing, I bend down to pet Lucky.

“Good dog, Lucky.” I tell him, like I always do.

I can't help it, he's a good dog and he deserves to know it. So does every dog on the planet, there's no such thing as a bad dog.

The coffee's done and I start to drink it straight from the pot, before it even cools down. Of course, I burn my tongue like the idiot I am but I'm so tired I don't care.

When the pot's empty, I'm alive enough to start my day…

***

Okay, this is bad. I don't know where I am but my head is pounding and I can't get my hands free. I tug at the rough rope as it's cutting into my wrists behind me but the binding won't budge. Great. And did they really need to blindfold me?

“So which one of you is gonna be good cop and which one of you is bad cop?” I don't even know if anyone's around to listen.

“You're out o’ luck, Hawk-Man… I'm worse cop.” Some goon says.

“It's Hawk. Eye. Not… never mind.” I sigh.

Why can't anyone get my name right? Hawkguy, Hawk-Man, bird brain, Hawk [expletive]… I can never catch a break. But that's not my biggest problem right now. 

The guy pulls off the blindfold and I half expect him to go “ta-da” when he does. Now I can see he's just some guy in a suit with hired goons next to him.

“So what d'you want? Do you wanna kill me?”

I try to sound as un-impressed as possible. Maybe they'll figure out I'm not worth the trouble and let me go. Fat chance.

“You're a nuisance for my operation and nuisances must go.” The guy says.

Well, he wasn't a part of the tracksuit gang. Not enough uses of the word “bro”. Looks like there's some new goons in town and I have to take them out. Just another day for Hawkeye.

“Cool story, bro.” I have bro on the mind, I can't stop myself.

The guy punches me right in the face. I guess I deserved that. Lucky me, I'm used to being punched but that doesn't make it feel any better.

“Ow…”

“You'll pay for what you did to my men.” The guy spits when he talks.

“I've heard that line before.”

The guy waves to the goons next to him and they take out knives. Now's my chance to escape. I get up as quick as possible from the chair they put me in and barrel forward into one of the goons. He's big but I hit him with my full body weight and take him off-guard. It's enough to knock him to the ground. It's hard but I wrestle the knife from him, after he cuts my arm. Ouch. At least I can cut the rope now.

I'm free. Awesome. Now I just need to fight two goons and a guy in a suit then get the Hell out of whatever warehouse they brought me to. Why do the bad guys always have warehouses?

The big guy under me throws me off of him but, unlucky him, I still have his knife. I throw it into his thigh then bring my knee up into his head when he bends down. That seems to knock him out. Usually it takes a little more than that to bring such a big guy down.

"Just goes to show, size doesn't matter."

"You're [explicit gerund] dead!" The other goon yells.

I take the knife out of his leg and throw it at the other goon. I aim for his wrist so he drops his knife. It works. I run at the goon and tackle him to the ground. By the time I knock him out, suit guy is gone.

“Futz.”

And I didn't even catch his name. I need to leave before anymore goons show up. I slip out the back door. God, I love emergency exits in evil criminal facilities.

Now I have to figure out where I am… and find some cops. I need a nap.


End file.
